Vegeta's Wish
by RJT0123456789
Summary: Vegeta is struggling to cope with his ever declining sense of control and self-identity.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Author's Note:** Setting is during the Android Saga.

Psychology of Vegeta

It had been hours since the encounter with the android twins. Vegeta had decided to return to the pivotal point of his decline. Where it all began. He descended from the air in minutes. Swooping down from the sky, he could have sworn he saw those old signs of the last struggle he had with Kakarot near oddly shaped creators and grotesquely shaped plateaus. He found a perfect mountain peak in the center of a valley where he could collect his thoughts. After landing, he stared off into the emptiness of the mountainous regions as if deep in thought.

It just didn't make any sense. No matter how far Vegeta had exerted his heart and soul into his goals, he always came short of reaching them. It seemed like it was beyond his control. It was as if the goddess of fate herself had made a false promise of destiny to taint his heart. She kept opening a way for him to just barely reach it and quickly snatch it away.

All of his life, he had been told he was destined for greatness. Even after witnessing the moral decadence of the once glorious Saiyans, he believed he would awaken as a Super Saiyan and restore order and liberate them from Frieza's spiritual declination of his race. Although that dream fell apart after Frieza suddenly decided to eradicate all of the Saiyans. He had taken it upon himself to get revenge by any means necessary. Even if it meant playing the role "Lord" Frieza had wanted all of His Saiyans to.

He could feel his own spiritual degeneration after the countless slaughter of poor, innocent fools. But it was all worth it in the end, as it was needed to become detached in order to defeat Frieza. The legend of Super Saiyan was that he was a ruthless killing machine with no compassion. And if Vegeta had not accepted his Lord's requests, there would also surely be suspicions of loyalty.

At that time, he had not feared Frieza the same way because it was obvious he had adored him as His prized doll. Although he did fear his subordinates eventually surpassing him by outdoing him in mindless slaughter. There was no reason not to participate. They would all die anyway. When the rumor of the Dragon Balls circulated about after Raditz's death, Vegeta's long surprised dreams of revenge were thought to have been realized. That's when he came along.

Kakarot. The bastard of dogs. The parasite of tramps. This vagabond, with no care whatsoever, is gifted, no thieves, the very rite of only a denied Saiyan Prince. Anyone that denied the royal authority and our heritage would be destroyed, not before first suffering the punishment of a torturous submission. The dog was the first.

And things only spiraled downward. We all know the rest of the story. It was the Prince of all Saiyans that was, of course, forced to submit and cry and beg and scream and cry and die. Everything was for not. Nothing mattered and nobody cared. Just like now. A place where indifferent androids with no interest in fighting dominate a prince dedicated only to fighting…

He felt like he did back on Namek. That pit of despair after feeling overflowing with hope and confidence only to have realized it was all a lie. Such as when he fought Frieza's true form. After the boy from the future warned of his death to the androids, never again did he want to feel that way. That slap in the face from hopelessness. But he did. Vegeta might have cried if he hadn't been staring upward into the sky.

It was very cloudy as if a violent storm was forming above him. It was as if it were an outward manifestation of his mental state. He wanted it to envelope him, as powerless as he felt. The sky started thundering loudly and violent winds began picking up, picking up chunks of rock. Vegeta didn't know if he was indirectly causing this or not but he didn't care.

There was no point anymore. He had submitted a long time ago. His soul and purity was infested with Frieza's cold hands. The Saiyan spirit had died and no one cared.  
This was also why he was willing to follow Frieza's desires. He mutilated and had his way with other people in other despicable ways for fun. There was no point. No one cared.

They would have died. Might made right. A false sense of control needed to be exerted where it could not or else the Prince would have suffered insanity from the unprecedented amount of submission. There was also mixing royal genetics with inferiority. It wasn't desirable. Such as the self-proclaimed Super Saiyan from the future. Vegeta didn't give a damn who he was. He made no deal to accept Earth norms or companionships with lowly females. It would have been no different than it would have been on a planetary purging in any other case.

It bothered him. It really tore him from the inside. But it didn't matter. Nobody cared. They were all honorless and disgusting in their own way. Any chance to re-developing a harmonious relationship with the Saiyan spirit was lost after the extermination of the Saiyan women and other valiant warriors. _Nobody_ cared. They couldn't because they were dead. All alone. Nobody cared. Who was Vegeta? He was just an alien relic of the past that nobody cared to understand.

He kept recalling the child-like attitude of the androids. How carefree they were. He hated it. It was like the dog. Absolutely no effort or meaning to their lives. They were trash and they didn't care about anything except their simplistic, compulsive pleasures beyond his understanding.

Not that there was any meaning to his anymore. No real comrades to trade honorable exchanges with. No noblemen and peasants alike standing proud for their Saiyan royalty and heritage. Oh how mighty and majestic the royal authority was! They were worthy. They had proven it. The days are lost and nobody cared. In fact, they loved it. They mocked it. The dogs thrived and fed off of it like disgusting parasites. They had not earned it either. They had no right.

Forever lost were the real, majestic pleasures for even any great Saiyan to behold. For they were a spiritual race, once brought together organically. Saiyan marriages also had more meaning than any dog could comprehend. That was the pinnacle of the harmonious, Saiyan spirit. The romantic and instinctual passion was a wonder of the universe compared to this "place". It was also mental and spiritual unity. It was lost forever. And nobody cared.

**Author's Note:** My first attempt at writing a fan-fiction. I have a feeling I am rambling on too much about certain things while some of it was intentionally redundant to reflect Vegeta's state of mind. Please give me any tips on possibly repairing this mess. I felt the need to explaining the mindset of Vegeta before beginning the actual story. Please let me know if you're interested in this story's continuation because I'm not entirely motivated if no one cares. Any other questions, feel free to ask.


End file.
